


Call it Magic

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Gotta Get Back to Hogwarts (Unafraid Verse) [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen, Happy Birthday Hunk, Hufflepuff Hunk, VoltronHunkBirthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Tuesdays are Hunk's favorite.Or, at least, they're supposed to be.A Hogwarts AU based onthis ficbyButtered_onionsfor Hunk's birthday.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unafraid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9136501) by [buttered_onions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttered_onions/pseuds/buttered_onions). 



> As a note:
> 
> This fic is non canonical to the events of Unafraid, though they are set in the same setting.
> 
> As for why I feel the need to say so, well...

Tuesdays were Hunk’s favorite days.

Not only did it have some of Hunk’s best subjects, but was the only day of the week where Hunk had one of his friends in every class. Okay, that wasn’t fair. Hunk was friendly with the boys in his dorm, and even more so with the girls. But the professors are all too liable to make them pair up with opposite houses for that to be really useful. Besides, there were people he could be friendly with, and then there were  _ friends _ .

Settling down at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast, Hunk pulled his bag over and grabbed his Potions essay. He’d looked it over last night, but he’d finished it late to begin with, and then he spent the night worrying that he’d made a stupid mistake because he was tired, and he’d turn it in and tank his grade. Professor Jameson took points like they were his by right, and all the houses were keeping them from him. Hunk hated to give him the opportunity.

“Careful,” a voice called, and someone reached over and plucked his goblet up before Hunk’s elbow could knock it. “You’re gunna ruin all your hard work.”

Glancing up, Hunk gave Shiro a distracted smile. “Morning. Thanks.”

Shiro hummed his agreement and put down the goblet, farther up the table this time. Then he gave Hunk a fond pat on the shoulder before starting to pile food onto his own plate.

It was nice, that Shiro made an effort to sit by Hunk during meals. Or, maybe it wasn’t, and it was just self preservation. During first year, Hunk had been constantly coming over to ask question after question, even on days where he had tutoring with Shiro later. It was just that Hunk would think of something, like why nettles were added with high flames rather than low, and he wouldn’t know the answer. And Shiro seemed to know everything, and if Hunk waited he might forget, and what if he needed to know it in class soon? 

Shiro had (nearly) always been very nice about the interruptions, and eventually had started to just sit next to Hunk to make it easer. These days, Hunk didn’t have nearly so many questions, if only because he could usually figure it out from his own base of knowledge. But he appreciated it anyway. Besides, Shiro was their friend just as much as their tutor.

Musing on that, Hunk reached for his wand, erasing a word on the paper with a spell and replacing it with it’s proper spelling. Eugh. But there didn’t seem to be anything else glaringly obvious, so he put it away with a sigh.

“Potions?” Shiro asked dryly.

Hunk colored. Apparently he was transparent. “Yeah,” he agreed. “One last check.”

Patting him on the back, Shiro pointed at Hunk with his fork. “Don’t worry too much about him. Professor Jameson knows you're brilliant, even if he’s an-” he suddenly cut himself off, glancing at a pair of first years just a few feet away.  “Not always very nice.”

Ah, the woes of being Head Boy. Always an example. Hunk wasn’t sure he wanted the prefect badge himself, next year. Mind, he wasn’t sure he wanted any of his dorm mates to have it either, since they could be boisterous and not always very responsible. It would hurt his pride, at least a little, to lose out to any of them. But it was a lot of work, and Hunk was already worried about the workload of fifth year. He didn’t need more things to freak out over.

But that was out of his hands anyway.

“Thanks,” Hunk replied, trying to keep from blushing under Shiro’s easy compliments. “Potions is a fun subject.  I just want to do my best.”

Shiro nodded. “If you need me to look over anything, let me know.”

It was a familiar offer, so Hunk just shot him a nod as he reached for a serving of pancakes. He started for the sausage, then thought better of it. He’d eat a heavier meal at lunch, but it was never a good idea before Potions. All those gross ingredients. Hunk didn’t want a stomach full of greasy food when he had to mess with things that were not supposed to be outside a body.

Eugh.

***

When Hunk got to the dungeons, he plopped his bag down in his usual seat. Quite a few of his classmates were already there, gold uniforms folded in with bright red. But Lance was absent. 

Not that it was unusual. Lance thrived on the line between ‘barely on time’ and ‘a few seconds late’. Every minute in class was time Lance had to spend sitting still, and Hunk knew for a fact he put it off as long as possible.

It was a strategy that had its cons, and one of them was the sheer number of small point loses Lance managed every year for tardiness. They never added up to a lot, not really, but it was enough that occasionally rub his housemates the wrong way.

Today, Lance was even more likely to be running late. Before he’d left breakfast Hunk had spotted him, nearly elbow to elbow with the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Thankfully, he’d long since realized that trying to flirt with her was only going to hurt his chances of making the team in the long run. And this year, with the Triwizard Tournament taking up everyone’s time and effort, there was no team Quidditch anyway.

(”It’s perfect,” Lance had told Hunk, nearly bouncing in his seat. “It means I have a whole year to get in good with the team. If they like me, I’ve got a way better chance.”)

Right as the clock on the wall was about to tick over to 9 AM, Lance scrambled through the door, his hair wild from the run and bag thrown haphazardly over his open robes.

“Hey,” Lance panted, offering Hunk a grin. He barely spared Professor Jameson’s peevish look a glance. “Sleep well?”

Hunk nodded in response, not willing to respond verbally once Jameson began to collect the essays from last night. It wasn’t until all the papers were up and the day’s potion was on the board that he finally spoke. “Okay. I was up late finishing up for today.”

That earned him a sheepish look. Lance was the reason that Hunk hadn’t gotten it done over the weekend as planned. It had been a beautiful day for mid November, so he’d dragged them both out to spend it by the lake, trading outlandish stories about the Giant Squid.

Hunk didn’t regret it, not really. But it had still set him back.

“Don’t worry about it, you always get Outstandings on essays,” Lance replied easily. “And now you’ve got me to help you with your potion, so we’re going to do great. I’ll get the ingredients.”

Offering a smile back, Hunk nodded. That was a soft apology if he’d ever heard one from Lance. “Thanks.”

While Lance bounded up, Hunk set up the cauldron and charmed on the flame, then looked around. On the other side of the room, Keith caught his eyes and mimed a long sigh. Way back in first year, he’d been paired up with Jessica for Potions, both from lack of other options. Back then, Keith barely spoke a word to anyone, and Jessica had a nervous motor mouth and a shy disposition, meaning she’d had trouble making friends fast enough to secure a partner. Now Keith was in Hunk’s group, and the Hufflepuffs had folded Jessica once she stopped being quite so frightened. But the pairings had stuck and on stressful days, Jessica’s chattering had a tendency to drive Keith to distraction.

Once in awhile, Hunk had tried to switch it up and pair with Keith, but Lance had been upset. This was one of their few classes together, after all. Now that their rivalry had officially cooled, Hunk should really offer more often. 

But he also liked being paired with Lance. He made the otherwise stressful class easier to take. Keith’s quiet intensity wasn’t as good for that.

So Hunk just shot him a sympathetic smile and mouthed  _ ‘library?’.  _

Offering a small smile, Keith nodded, then returned his focus to Jessica.

Good. They’d meet up at the study period after dinner. Lance tended to spend that time flying or convincing one of his Muggleborn dormmates to teach him more about football, getting out his energy before the sun went down.  It was the best time to spend with Keith, who was a great study companion anyway.

Bringing back a handful of ingredients, Lance sat down and pulled over the knife, starting to prep immediately. “How long was your essay, today?”

Without missing a beat, Hunk filled the cauldron with the appropriate measure of water and waited for it to boil, then started to add the ingredients, trusting Lance to prepare them perfectly. It was their system, and it kept them hovering near the top of their class. “Uh, half a foot over?”

“Overachiever,” Lance accused playfully, gleefully using the mortar and pestle to grind the Devil’s Snare root to dust. “You just like making the rest of us look bad.”

“It’s what I live for,” Hunk replied blandly. As he added the powder in small measures, he glanced at the top to make sure it was the appropriate shade of green. A little more teal than blue, so Hunk added a bit more water, and the color settled. There, that was better. Then he picked up his wand to cast a timer charm, so the potion would sit for the exact two minutes needed.

But the feeling of eyes made him pause, and Hunk glanced up to see Jameson stepping over, expression flat. He glanced over Lance and Hunk’s shoulders, lips thin. But apparently there was nothing to critique, because he only nodded and stepped back away.

Hunk sighed and put down his wand. 

“Relax,” Lance murmured soothingly, knocking their shoulders together. “See? You’re so perfect, even Professor Jameson can’t find anything wrong with yours.” He tilted his head to the next table over, where Jameson was murmuring in low, sharp tones to another group. They girls pulled away from each other, cheeks blushing, and Hunk suspected they had been flirting more than paying attention to their cauldron.

Lips thin, Hunk sighed and nodded. “Yeah.” Since the timer still hadn’t gone off, he leaned against the edge of the table. “Are you ready for the Charms test on Friday?”

“Yes?” Lance made a face. “I mean, I need to look over the chapter again. And my notes. We can do that together?”

“Sure,” Hunk agreed. “At tutoring tomorrow we can buckle down on it.”

Lance nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. The noise got a sharp look from Jameson, and Lance crinkled his nose but pulled it back. “You’d think this class would be easier. At least it’s not like History of Magic.”

Snorting, Hunk rolled his eyes. “You spend History of Magic drawing that comic of yours.”

“At least I’m not napping,” Lance replied instantly, grinning. Then he paused, glancing at the clock. “Has it not been two minutes?”

Well, the alarm charm hadn’t gone off, but- Hunk froze, chest tight. Oh no. He glanced down at the cauldron, but the ghostly charm he’d expected to see at the base was pointedly absent.

He’d never actually cast it.

Standing up, Hunk groaned at the thick goop inside their cauldron. “I’m so sorry!” He hissed. “I never- oh no. I can fix this! Water first.”

Lance frowned. “You probably can. It’s okay, man, it’s only been a couple of minutes more.” He added the water, then gave the potion a good few stirs. It was several shades darker than it should have been, royal purple rather than lilac, but the constancy did thin out to closer to what the book said. “See?”

But it was still wrong. Hunk added the chopped lemongrass with a sigh. “I’m really sorry.”

“It was when Jameson was breathing down your neck, right? Don’t worry about it.” Lance patted his arm, eyes wide. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

Hunk let Lance’s touches soothe him, even if he slumped back into his seat. “I guess.” He just…

He wanted to do well. Hunk liked getting good grades, liked having the answers and the satisfaction of a job well done. And he couldn’t help but feel extra judged when he did badly. There were days where Hunk felt like the Muggle side of his family defined him to some of his peers, and even sometimes the teachers.

Maybe it was just in his head. Probably, even. But it still weighed on him.

The rest of the class period went quickly after that, with Hunk still trying every trick he could think of to improve the potion. By the end, it was only slightly off from what it should have been, and Lance declared him an absolute genius. 

“I’ll see you later, buddy,” Lance said, pulling him down for a quick, one-armed hug. “Have fun in Transfiguration. Think of me while I suffer through the creative and painful application of magical maths.”

“You’re the one who decided to drop Divination,” Hunk replied fondly.

Lance just stuck out his tongue. “I was tired of making stuff up. It was harder work than just studying.” He clapped Hunk on the arm one last time. “Thanks again for saving the day.”

Offering a smile, Hunk nodded. “Sorry for making it need saving.”

“Please, as if you haven’t pulled my sorry butt out of the fire Merlin knows how many times. You did good. But I gotta go, it’s a long walk. See you later!” With a last wave, Lance started to jog for the stairs, no doubt trying to catch the best configuration to get to his classroom.

Oh, Hogwarts. Inefficient and beautiful as ever.

***

“Hey,” Pidge greeted easily, giving him a lazy wave. She had her legs curled under her to gain an extra couple of inches, so when Hunk sat down, she came up just past his jaw. “You ready for today?”

Hunk made a face in response. Transfiguration was one of his favorite classes, but there was one exception, and that was animal to object. The opposite way was no problem, and Hunk could turn a rabbit an owl and back again in a single flick of his wand. 

But turning something living into an object just felt… creepy. Transfigured animals weren’t real, living things. They were simulations, fakes that moved accurately and sounded realistic, but  were essentially programmed. Real animals were, well, alive. And there was something deeply creepy about taking that away, even for only a few seconds.

Pidge offered him a pat on the shoulder, expression bland. “One of these days, you can actually turn in that essay you wrote for Iverson on ethical transfiguration, you know.”

“Oh, man,” Hunk moaned. “No way. I wrote that thing in second year. It’s got to be so bad, now.”

Shrugging, Pidge flicked her wand between her fingers. Since Hunk had introduced her to the idea of pen flipping, she’d decided wand flipping was a totally necessary and useful skill for everyday life. 

(”It improves reflexes and coordination,” she’d said, nose in the air. “That can only be a good thing.”)

Hunk gave it five minutes before she sent her wand flying across the room again. Hopefully this time she wouldn’t turn anyone’s hair green. 

(”House pride, Jacobs,” she’d drawled, brows raised. “Slytherins against the world, right? I’m doing you a favor.”)

Clearing his throat loudly, Iverson began class, and Hunk scrambled for parchment for notes. It was all review of last week’s theory, but it was always good to be on top of things. Besides, if he didn’t take notes each day, he’d have a skip in his filing, and it would drive him nuts. Next to him, Pidge didn’t even bother, sketching the mice in a cage on Iverson’s desk.  For some reason, in her drawing they had little capes and armor.  Hunk had stopped asking years ago.

The lecture only lasted about fifteen minutes, and then Hunk was handed a tiny, adorable white mouse. He looked into their inky black eyes, and they looked back, innocent and trusting.

“I can’t,” Hunk groaned.

Pidge glanced over, her wand already up. “Want me to do yours?”

Wincing, Hunk glanced over to make sure Iverson hadn’t heard. “No,” he replied. “That’s cheating.”

Brows up, Pidge gestured to her green and silver tie.

Hunk pointed to the Hufflepuff badge on his chest in response.

“Alright, suit yourself.” Pidge practiced the movement one last time, eyes narrowed behind her glasses. Then she cast the spell, and her mouse twisted in on itself, becoming a delicate looking teapot. Except for the oddly textured and skinny pink handle, it looked perfect. Another flick and murmur, and the mouse was back, stumbling dazedly.

Aww, man.

Closing his eyes, Hunk took a deep breath and pointed his wand at the mouse. He put his hand down to the side to keep it from wandering off, and concentrated.

Then he moved his hand away.

For a moment, there was no response. Then the mouse let out a little squeaking noise, and Hunk heard it’s tiny feet scamper off.

Opening his eyes, Hunk waited gave it a few more moments, until it was at the door. Then he raised his hand. “Professor?”

“Yes, Garrett?” Iverson called. Somehow, he always managed to snap it in a way that made Hunk feel like he was at boot camp in a corny movie.

Hunk pointed to the wall. “My mouse escaped.”

Groaning, Iverson turned, wand out to catch it, but the brave little mouse slipped through a crack in the stone before he could summon it.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Iverson groaned. His single eye was narrowed, but it wasn’t in suspicion. It was like he was judging Hunk for managing to lose his mouse in less than five minutes.

Which, yeah, fair. Hunk would take that.

“Seems we’re short, now. If no one finishes early, it’ll be a zero for the day.”

Hunk nodded, expression firm. “Yes, Sir.”

His lack of reaction earned him another squint, but Hunk was a good enough student the rest of the time that Iverson let it go, instead following another raised hand.

“You know, you could have just asked for the zero,” Pidge pointed out, petting the head of her mouse. It was lying down, and Hunk suspected it was dizzy from being changed back and forth rapidly.

“I know.”

Pidge shrugged. “Alright. Well, I think you’re in luck. No one else seems to have it yet.”

Frowning, Hunk glanced at her mouse. “Except you.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Pidge replied, lips curled up. “I seem to be having a lot of trouble with this today. I don’t think I’ll get it right until the very last minute.”

Chest warming, Hunk smiled at her. “Thanks.”

Pidge smiled back. “No problem. Just help me with Defense before next week’s quiz and we’re good.”

As if Hunk was going to do anything else. But he appreciated her help, and so he could respect her need for equal exchange. If nothing else, he’d chalk it up to a Slytherin thing.

But that wasn’t bad. It was the reason Pidge could look Iverson in the face and say she was having a little trouble with this spell today, Sir, and look… well, not sincere, but not like she was lying.

The best teams were made up with people with different skills, after all. It was why Tuesdays were (supposed to be) his favorite days.  Hunk was never on his own.

***

There were days Hunk thought he would have done well in Ravenclaw. Not that it would have been better. Never that, because Hunk loved his house. Even when some Gryffindor sixth years snickered that he was in the leftovers house, or the Ravenclaw he sat next to in History of Magic gave him a look like he couldn’t possibly be smart if he wasn’t wearing enough blue and bronze.

But Hunk loved the library.  He loved the smell of books, loved the tactile feel of parchment and old paper under his fingers.  Loved the calm atmosphere, the lack of loud noises or distractions.  Loved how comfortable it all ways.

Next to him, Keith had given up on essays and had pulled out a novel instead.  It was a series of Shiro’s that Keith had picked up over the summer, and he’d been owling Shiro’s mom back and forth to get the next in the installment since.

Frankly, Hunk found the whole arrangement kind of adorable.  Not only because of the way Keith was comfortable owling Shiro’s mom and sending along letters about his year so far, but the fact that he was absorbing a kid’s series about super spy teenagers like a sponge.

(”We started James Bond in August,” Keith admitted, quiet but awed.  “I liked it.  I don’t understand how they do it without magic.”)

Setting aside the borrowed Defense book, Hunk frowned and looked for the other reference he needed.  But it wasn’t in his pile, and it wasn’t under any of his notes.  “Did you see where  _ Environmental Applications of Defense _ went?”

Keith’s brow furrowed, and he set down his book.  “Oh.  I might have put it away when I finished.  Want me to go get it for you?”

“Oh.  Um, if you wouldn’t mind?  I’d go get it myself but…” Hunk tapped the feather of his quill against his parchment.  If he got up, he was going to lose his thought, he just knew it.

Nodding, Keith stood.  “Sorry.  Just a second.  Want me to put this up too?”  He tapped the cover of  _ The Definitive Encyclopedia of Shielding. _

Definitive.  Sure.  Hunk had already found four shields the book didn’t even mention, much less covered in any sort of depth.  

“Thanks so much,” he replied, shooting Keith a grateful smile.

Taking the book, Keith wandered off into the shelves, ducking out of sight.  Once he was gone, Hunk finished his paragraph, then pulled over his outline, double checking that he’d hit every point he wanted to.

After five minutes of working, Hunk realized Keith hadn’t come back.  That was a long while to be switching books, especially with Hogwarts’ famous shelving spells.

“Keith?” Hunk called, voice a harsh, carrying whisper.

There was no response at first.  But another minute later, he heard Keith shout.  “ _ Furnunculus! _ ”

Eyes wide, Hunk shoved both their supplies into his bag as fast as he could, and then bolted in the direction he’d heard Keith’s voice.

He was met halfway by Keith, who grabbed his robes and pulled him back in the other direction.  “C’mon, before Madame Taylor hears.”

“What was that?” Hunk hissed, stumbling from surprise.  Keith kept pulling until he had his balance again, and they both quickly slipped out of the library .  “Who did you curse?”

“Abrams,” Keith panted.  “He deserved it.”

That, Hunk didn’t really doubt.  Keith had a temper, but he only raised his wand when he was serious.  “What’d he do?”

Keith’s eyes shuttered, and he glanced back over his shoulder.  “Said something he knew was stupid.”

“Like what?” Hunk pressed.  Maybe he shouldn’t, but Keith had a bad tendency to bottle things up and let them fester.  That and Hunk was curious.  It was like Pidge’s mysterious projects with her brother.  Hunk wanted to know.

Frowning, Keith shrugged one shoulder.  But Hunk didn’t stop staring at him, arms crossed, until he sighed.  “He said a Pureblood - even one as ‘tragically lost’ as me - shouldn’t be seen with so much Muggle stuff.”

Ah.

“He was lucky you just gave him boils,” Hunk muttered.  Keith nodded, teeth gritted.

It had been worse than usual, the past few weeks.  Since a Muggleborn had been declared the Hogwarts Champion of the Triwizard Tournament, there had been a dark undercurrent.  Purebloods that Hunk had never had a problem with before were suddenly not so comfortable with the idea, and he’d heard more people talking in tones Hunk didn’t like at all.  Even Hufflepuff wasn’t immune, to Hunk’s deep shame.  They were the house of fairness, and suddenly there were some people looking at Shiro like he was getting out of his place.

Keith wasn’t taking it well.  Neither was Lance, but Lance never had the same kind of pressures on him.  Yes, he was a Pureblood, but his family hadn’t been politically powerful in generations.  He was more like the Holts, who were such a new Pureblood family that they weren’t even in most of the encyclopedias yet.  But Keith was the heir to a now-dead family whose tastes could only be described as Dark, and while he’d spent his life bouncing from one set of distant relatives to the next, he hadn’t ever picked up any of the quirks.

But it didn’t stop every snooty ‘my family goes back to the 5th century’ Pureblood jackass from thinking Keith should be like them, and from pushing back when Keith blatantly refused.

Really, they were all idiots.  Shiro was Keith’s favorite person in the entire world.  Even if their nonsense wasn’t ridiculous from the beginning, it was way too late now.  After three summers spent with the Shiroganes, Keith wasn’t going to suddenly decide the whole Muggle thing was gross after all.

“We can go to one of our common rooms to study?” Hunk offered, hand hovering over Keith’s shoulder.  It was hard to know when to push and touch, and when to give Keith his space.

From the way Keith pulled in on himself, it was probably one of the latter.  “I think I’m gunna go on a walk,” Keith replied.  “Before I…”

He didn’t finish, but he didn’t need to.  Before he did something impulsive and Gryffindor-ish and got sent to Headmaster Alfor’s office.

“Lance is out with his broom, if you want,” Hunk offered.  “He’ll keep you sharp until next year’s games.”

Keith’s lip curled up. “Probably.”  Then he turned to Hunk, his dark eyes painfully serious.  “I’m not ashamed.”

“Of reading Muggle novels?  Good.  I know they’re for kids, but they’re pretty good-”

Shaking his head, Keith took a deep breath.  “No.  Of you.  Or Shiro, too.  They’re idiots, and you’re worth a hundred of them.  They’re mad that you’re both smarter and better than them, and all they have is their stupid family trees.”

Something in Hunk’s chest went very still, then picked up even faster than before.  “Oh.  You mean-”  Hunk swallowed.  “Yeah, I know I am.  Thanks, Keith.”

“Just telling the truth,” he replied.  He shifted from one foot to the other, looking awkward, then reached up to pat Hunk’s arm.  “Screw them.”

“Screaw them all.”  Hunk offered him a smile.  “You’re worth a lot yourself, Keith.”

That earned him another flash of a smile back.  “Here, I should get my stuff before we forget.”

Hunk sorted through everything he’d shoved into his bag until he could give Keith back his supplies.  “Enjoy your flying.”

“You can come.  We can always use a Beater in the mix.”

Shrugging, Hunk shook his head.  “Nah, not today. It’s been a long one.  I kinda want to go lie down, if we’re done.”

“Okay.”  Keith nodded to him, and knocked their shoulders again.  “I’ll see you at tutoring tomorrow.”  

Hunk waved goodbye, then started the long trek back down to the Hufflepuff common room.

Yeah, this past month had brought the nasties out.  But it also brought out the best in people.  Hunk was pretty proud of the friends he’d made.

***

“You look tired,” Shiro commented, picking his head up from his book.  “Long day?”

Hunk sighed.  “Yeah.”  He flopped down on the couch next to him, dropping his bag on the floor.  “And to think I was looking forward to today.”

Brows up, Shiro put aside his novel.  “Why’s that?”

“Tuesday,” Hunk replied.  “Tuesdays are normally good.  Just not this one.”

Shiro patted his shoulder consolingly.  “It happens to the best of us.  Want to talk about it?”

Hunk leaned his head back against the top of the couch, considering.  “Lots of little stuff.  Nothing that doesn’t sound silly when I say it out loud.  Mostly.”

“It’s not silly if it’s bothering you,” Shiro pointed out.  “And that’s an ominous mostly.”

Crinkling his nose, Hunk shook his head.  “No, they’re still silly.  Little mistakes.  And, uh… something you should talk to Keith about.”

Shiro frowned at that, sitting up straighter.  “Is it a serious talk?”

“Kinda?” Hunk winced.  “Don’t tell him I said anything to you.  But he could probably use some time tomorrow.”

Lips thin, Shiro gave a short nod.  “Anything about it you can talk about?”

Hunk thought about it, then shook his head.  “If it’s still bothering me tomorrow, I will.”

That seemed to satisfy Shiro, who leaned back against the corner of the couch, legs tucked under him in ways that would probably be painfully twisted if he wasn’t Shiro.  “What else?”

“Nah.  You’ve gotta have better things to be doing,” Hunk pointed out.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading.”

Shiro’s brows rose, and he tapped his Head Boy badge.  “Actually, I don’t.  I’m addressing the needs of a student.  That’s my job.”

Groaning, Hunk rolled his eyes.  “Oh, please.”

“It’s my civic duty,” Shiro continued, dramatically squaring his shoulders and deepening his voice like some silly action show.  “To see to the needs of those around me.”

Hunk shoved his shoulder until Shiro teetered over.  “What a wise and caring leader you are to us lowly students.”

Shiro grinned back, not moving from where he’d flopped against the armrest.  “C’mon, spill.  What’s up?”

“I told you, silly stuff.  I forgot to cast the timer charm in Potions, and then in Transfiguration I didn’t want to hurt the mice.” Hunk sighed.  “It’s nothing big, it just… it adds up, some days.”

Nodding, Shiro scooted over, until their arms brushed.  “You know, I’m pretty sure Matt’s never actually managed to remember to cast Tempus.  In fifth year we started arguing about a book series I’d gotten him on over the summer, and we left the heat on high for so long we boiled away the entire potion and cracked his cauldron.”

On one hand, it was so strange to think of Shiro making such a stupid mistake, even with Matt Holt as a distraction.  On the other, it made so sense that Hunk couldn’t help laughing.  “I’m sure Jameson loved that.”

“Well, he was pissed, but he was just as bad,” Shiro replied, lips curled smugly.  “He was chewing us out when the cauldron cracked.  That whole time and he didn’t even notice himself.  He was just mad we were being loud about it.”

Hunk curled up further on the couch, resting his cheek on the back cushion.  “How long did you get detention for that?”

“Just the day,” Shiro replied.  “I did my time.  Matt had to do the whole week, though, because he kept insisting Jameson should do the detention with us.  So, trust me, you aren’t the worst at it.  Even if you get a zero for the day, it’s not the end of the world.  Some dotty Headmaster might still make you Head Boy, apparently.”

Hunk hid his smile in the couch cushions and nodded.  “Yeah.  It sucked, but we did okay on the assignment.  I just don’t like making those kinds of screw-ups.  The mouse thing was worse.”

“Well, I still think you should send that essay you made to Headmaster Alfor.  If you want, I can take it to him.  Or Allura can.  You know she’ll be in your corner if you want her.”

Probably.  Allura was known for taking up a cause and fighting tooth and nail for it.  Which was something she could get away with, considering the Headmaster was her father, and the Deputy Headmaster was basically her uncle.

(”All the more reason I fight,” Allura told him, hands on her hips and hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.  Her Gryffindor crest seemed to shine on her robes.  “If I don’t use my power to do good, I have no reason to complain when the world goes badly.”)

“I’ll think about it,” Hunk replied.  “I’d hate to have you guys do that and have it not amount to anything.”

Shiro shrugged.  “You never know until you try.  I think you have a good point.”  He reached out and ruffled Hunk’s hair, playfully pushing his face farther into the couch.  “Besides, you’re brilliant, and you write a mean essay.  You might convince him through the sheer power of prose.”

“Shiro!”  Hunk swatted his hand away, but he couldn’t fight a smile.  “Oh, please.”

“It’s true,” Shiro replied.  “I should know, I read most of your essays over.  I’m an authority on the subject.  In a decade, when you’re a household name, I’ll write a memoir about it and make enough to travel the world a write a series of dubious self-help novels.”

Hunk snorted.  “This got really specific.”  Then his expression went sly.  “And we all know you’d use that money to go hang out at a dragon reserve all year.”

Going pink, Shiro huffed.  “Maybe, maybe not.”  But he offered Hunk a smile.  “Just let me know, okay?  I’m always willing to help.”

“I know,” Hunk replied fondly.  “You gotta.  Hufflepuffs stick together.”

Shiro grinned.  “Damn right.  I’m contractually obligated.  But I like you anyway, so I’ll be graceful about it.”

“Thanks ever so much,” Hunk replied, dry as a phoenix’s nest.  “You’re an inspiration.”

Shrugging, Shiro picked his novel back up, settling back in.  “I try.”

Hunk closed his eyes, content to sit here by the fire.  He had time for his essay, and there was tutoring between now and the next test, so nothing to stress over quite yet.  And now that he’d talked it out, he really did feel better about the events of the day.  

Slowly, Hunk relaxed into the couch, listening to the crackle from the fireplace and the sound of Shiro turning pages.  Eventually, his breathing started to slow, and he felt warm and heavy…

 

At some point, Hunk was tugged up, his arm over a pair of broad shoulders and his weight held firm.  At first, that didn’t make sense, and he thought he was having a strange dream.  But then he recognized the familiar tickling sensation of a feather-light charm.  “Mmm?”

“You’re okay, buddy, just getting you to your dorm.  You’ll sleep better in your room.”

Probably.   Hunk nodded agreeably, and let himself be half-dragged down the hall.  “Thanks.”

“No problem.  It’s going in my memoir, though.”

Hunk yawned.  “That’s okay.  You deserve it.”

There was a chuckle next to his ear.  “I’m honored.”  

Vaguely, Hunk was aware of being lowered onto his bed, and of a muttered charm making his shoes unlace and tuck themselves under the bed.  Curling onto his side, Hunk smiled.

Yeah, he was really proud of the friends he’d made.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Want to fight me about house choices? Do so [here](http://bosstoaster.tumblr.com).


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